Sitting in the Hanover, NH library right now, racking my brain to think of everything to say.
First things first, Jeramiah caught up to me finally and we're hiking together again.
He caught up the evening after I finished Mahoosuc Notch, which has a reputation as being the "hardest mile on the trail." I like the way someone else put it: It's like an adult jungle gym. That is, it's a mile-point-one of huge rocks and boulders that are resting in a pile at the bottom of a notch, with some water running underneath. It requires a good deal of scrambling over and under and around, and a little strategizing, but nothing intense or dangerous. I went through alone, taking about an hour and forty minutes to finish. It was nothing like people built it up to be, not challenging at all, just different. I highly recommend that section.
Pretty soon after, we crossed into New Hampshire, kissed the ground, laid our final good-riddances in the Maine soil, and rejoiced. Deliver us out of these bogs and mosquitoes, New Hampshire. Time out for some visitation with my family, however. They all three drove to Pinkham Notch to meet J and I, and while the visit wasn't exactly restful, it was fun. And delicious. We drove around a lot, up the Mt. Washington Auto Road on the second day. I believe Washington (he'll kick you apart) is the tallest peak in the northeast? At any rate, it has the "worst weather in the world," with snow every month of the year and a planetary record windspeed of 231 mph many decades ago. It has a long history of tourism and research, and there is a weather observatory and little museum up there now, and a historical recreation of one of the early summit houses. We chilled there, contemplating pretending to be tourists to thru-hikers we did not know, showering them with the same old questions. But I would have laughed after the first few words and given it away. Later that day we went to a shopping town, where I got maple candy and some kid's secondhand keychain Ugly Doll, which I have named Guggers and now carry with me.
After that visit, several zero and near-o mileage days conspired against our hiking through the White Mountains very quickly. I got my first taste of mountain hospitality at Madison Springs Hut (Carter Notch had sent me out in the cold rain just before dark with a cry of "no room"). The Appalachian Mountain Club, which maintains many trails and the AT through New Hampshire, has run these "huts" in the forest by special permission for over a hundred years, I think. There's much criticism. They're very expensive, being situated on mountaintops in a popular location, and hikers and helicopters must bring in all the supplies, and bring out the waste. They charge thru-hikers for a mere spot on the dining room floor at night. But they also feed their leftovers, and sometimes make special food, for the thru-hikers. Work-for-stay is also possible. I lucked out at Madison my second night, for a group of old college buddies and some of their sons "adopted" me into one of their vacant reservations. I got to sleep in a bunk, and had special vegan food prepared for me. At Mizpah, I got to cook stir-fry for myself and sleep in the library, in exchange for washing dishes. At Lonesome Lake Hut, there was a spaghetti and salad feast, again in exchange for dishwashing. I felt I was for the most part, though with some exception, treated well. But then it was nice to hit some actual free shelters again, and escape the crowds.
Darn! Library closing! More later.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Andover, ME
Finally, some time to write! I wonder if I can fit it all in the time I have.
As I said before, J and I left his house after fourth of July festivities to try to hitch hike to Millinocket and begin hiking the AT south. The hitching was a mixed bag, and it took forever to just get out of Ohio. We also found a kitten, a hairy orange guy, in a ditch while walking through one town. We bought him food--he got gravy on his face, so we called him Gravy. I sacrificed my cotton thrift clothes that I bought to wear around J's house so they could be Gravy's bedding, and we carried him in a box for an evening and a day until we could get to Portsmouth, OH, where we heard that an animal shelter was. The unhelpful lady on the phone--when we got to Portsmouth--told me there was no space for more cats, and she didn't have any suggestions of where to turn, either. We spent a lot of time at the library trying to find a place to take him along our route, then we took him to the vet to get checked out. Luckily, a woman named Crystal picked us up as we left the vet and promised to take care of him until she could find him a home. She talked about rescuing kittens before, and said she'd take Gravy back to the vet for extra treatments, so we felt good about leaving our baby with her. We had only had him for a day, but it seemed like longer, having to make sure he was comfy and happy and didn't run off, which he tried. It was an emotional parting, really, and Crystal said we were going to make her cry!
The next few days we hitched through a corner of Kentucky, up West Virginia, into Pennsylvania. We stayed at a campground one night, found a spot in the woods another night, pitched behind a narrow tree by the highway another night. All sorts of people picked us up, genders, races, ages, and numbers. Trucks with single drivers and empty beds passed us up while cars and trucks full of people and equipment found ways to squeeze us in. People offered us food, drink, smoke. Best was the grapefruit at one guy's house!
In Pennsylvania we failed to contact J's friend who was supposed to live around Pittsburgh. We chatted a guy at the coffee shop who took us to a place to camp in the woods, and started hitching the next day. First we were harassed by the police for walking along one highway--it didn't have the limited access sign on the ramp we took!--but he told us hitching was legal. Then we tried back at the ramp, got one exit down, and got stuck for almost five hours as car after car passed us. It was depressing. THEN another cop came and told us that people had called in to REPORT us for standing there to hitch, and hitching was actually illegal, and we would have to leave. It was such a crappy day that I gave up. We took a local bus back to Pittsburgh, found our way to the Greyhound station downtown, and hopped on immediately. A day later, we arrived in Bangor, ME. It was my first bus trip ever, and quite the impulsive travel decision.
In Bangor the next day we saw a pair of traveling kids with their dog--Panda was the name of the guy--and they were pleased to see us and pass on info about Bangor and Bar Harbor. They told us of a secret place to camp in Bangor by the river, which we eventually decided to try. Sitting there, waiting for it to get dark, a woman passed us with her dog, asking us if another dog sniffing around was ours. No. Then, she simply asked us if we needed a place to spend the night, and invited us to her house. Her name was Sarah, and she was a French teacher working on, I think, a folklore dissertation. Her dog was named Tillie because she liked collecting rocks and ripping up sod, and Tillie had twenty-six toes. Sarah lived in a beautiful house like the kind professors have close to college campuses. She gave us her back room, the sunroom I guess, and I slept on the daybed. She let us bathe and wash our clothes, and she told us to help ourselves to the food and drink in her fridge. Her house was filled with books, and I wanted to read them. Sarah was so poetic in her demeanor, and spoke about oral histories and connecting children to their communities, and spoke about the friends she made in France when she was younger. She lost herself in telling her own story while driving us up the interstate, and passed our exit by a long shot, even though she had meant to take us only a few miles!
We got to Millinocket quickly, found my box was not at the post office, hung out with some high schoolers who showed us the way to the trail. A man picked us up in his car before we even put our thumbs out, and before we knew it we were in Baxter State Park. July 12 we hiked to the base of Ktaadn (seeing four moose and a bald eagle on the way) and started our ascent, too late in the day for my pace! It took us 12 hours, when others took 8-10 hours. There was so much rock-hopping, and climbing, and clambering! We had our full packs on, and I had to drop some of my things behind a rock to lighten my load and center my balance better. I literally required J's hand up on some of the rocks because they were so slick and tall. We summited around 6:15 pm, two hours after we saw the last group on the way down. It was freezing and windy up there, so we took our pictures by the sign and got going down, hoping to make it below treeline before nightfall, which we did. It was 12:19 a.m. when we got back to the campground, and I was so tired.
Next was the "100-mile wilderness" which was not really a wilderness, but definitely fewer roads crossed. The mosquitos were infuriating, as was the mud and the rain and the roots and the rocks, and the dozens of orange slugs we found on our gear and ourselves in the mornings. The terrain was flattish, but we were slow going. We had a day of me going back in to Millinocket for more food, and J going in thinking he would get off the trail, but his mom convinced him to wait it out. We got a hitch back to the wrong trailhead and lost a few days doubling back over the missed section so we wouldn't skip any trail. We met more hikers and dogs, one named Morgan with a pink nose and beautiful blue eyes, and we made it through the wilderness (swamp) into Monson. J was ahead of me, so I hitched by myself. On the back of a motorcycle. Oh yeah.
Molly in Monson let out a room and let J work for it, so we had a private room with sheets. The bar had great pizza, and lake access. We hung out for a bit, zeroed, used the internet to fiddle with my pictures. Shortly after Monson J and I separated on the trail and crossed a major ford, the west Piscataquis. I cross upstream among several islands, got tangled up and turned around, but eventually made it back to the trail without having to spend the night lost. J crossed at high water and got swept away momentarily, immediately assumed I had drowned, swam to the shore, and then saw me clambering out of the woods back to the trail. He was soaked. We called it quits for the day and built a fire.
Soon after that we met a group of hikers we've been with for about a week. Some of them flipped at Damascus after we did. We've been going into towns together, hanging out, drinking, doing Karaoke, watching TV, enticing each other to zeros, and so on. Currently I'm at the Pine Ellis hostel in Andover with TNT, as I lost J and the others a few days ago at another town. I think they stayed in town longer than expected, and if they made it off the trail by now they are probably at the "party" hostel near here. I like this place though, with internet and phone and shower and sheets and laundry and a porch. TNT was helping me with some fungus I have, directing me to soak my feet in salt water. It burned indescribably, and David, who runs this place (his home, really) gave me beer to ease the pain. And foot powder too. And I got to float around in a pretty floral skirt because they provide clothes to wear while doing laundry! How nice! Right now I'm trying to let my shoes dry from their washing--hopefully that will help with the fungus.
I am almost out of Maine now, and into the Whites, and close to Mahoosuc Notch, which is supposed to be the hardest mile on the trail. They say that about a lot of places, so it's hard ot believe, but Maine has definitely been a whole different animal from the southern part of the trail.
I'm sure I could say more, but I've been typing for almost an hour, so I'll have to call it quits.
As I said before, J and I left his house after fourth of July festivities to try to hitch hike to Millinocket and begin hiking the AT south. The hitching was a mixed bag, and it took forever to just get out of Ohio. We also found a kitten, a hairy orange guy, in a ditch while walking through one town. We bought him food--he got gravy on his face, so we called him Gravy. I sacrificed my cotton thrift clothes that I bought to wear around J's house so they could be Gravy's bedding, and we carried him in a box for an evening and a day until we could get to Portsmouth, OH, where we heard that an animal shelter was. The unhelpful lady on the phone--when we got to Portsmouth--told me there was no space for more cats, and she didn't have any suggestions of where to turn, either. We spent a lot of time at the library trying to find a place to take him along our route, then we took him to the vet to get checked out. Luckily, a woman named Crystal picked us up as we left the vet and promised to take care of him until she could find him a home. She talked about rescuing kittens before, and said she'd take Gravy back to the vet for extra treatments, so we felt good about leaving our baby with her. We had only had him for a day, but it seemed like longer, having to make sure he was comfy and happy and didn't run off, which he tried. It was an emotional parting, really, and Crystal said we were going to make her cry!
The next few days we hitched through a corner of Kentucky, up West Virginia, into Pennsylvania. We stayed at a campground one night, found a spot in the woods another night, pitched behind a narrow tree by the highway another night. All sorts of people picked us up, genders, races, ages, and numbers. Trucks with single drivers and empty beds passed us up while cars and trucks full of people and equipment found ways to squeeze us in. People offered us food, drink, smoke. Best was the grapefruit at one guy's house!
In Pennsylvania we failed to contact J's friend who was supposed to live around Pittsburgh. We chatted a guy at the coffee shop who took us to a place to camp in the woods, and started hitching the next day. First we were harassed by the police for walking along one highway--it didn't have the limited access sign on the ramp we took!--but he told us hitching was legal. Then we tried back at the ramp, got one exit down, and got stuck for almost five hours as car after car passed us. It was depressing. THEN another cop came and told us that people had called in to REPORT us for standing there to hitch, and hitching was actually illegal, and we would have to leave. It was such a crappy day that I gave up. We took a local bus back to Pittsburgh, found our way to the Greyhound station downtown, and hopped on immediately. A day later, we arrived in Bangor, ME. It was my first bus trip ever, and quite the impulsive travel decision.
In Bangor the next day we saw a pair of traveling kids with their dog--Panda was the name of the guy--and they were pleased to see us and pass on info about Bangor and Bar Harbor. They told us of a secret place to camp in Bangor by the river, which we eventually decided to try. Sitting there, waiting for it to get dark, a woman passed us with her dog, asking us if another dog sniffing around was ours. No. Then, she simply asked us if we needed a place to spend the night, and invited us to her house. Her name was Sarah, and she was a French teacher working on, I think, a folklore dissertation. Her dog was named Tillie because she liked collecting rocks and ripping up sod, and Tillie had twenty-six toes. Sarah lived in a beautiful house like the kind professors have close to college campuses. She gave us her back room, the sunroom I guess, and I slept on the daybed. She let us bathe and wash our clothes, and she told us to help ourselves to the food and drink in her fridge. Her house was filled with books, and I wanted to read them. Sarah was so poetic in her demeanor, and spoke about oral histories and connecting children to their communities, and spoke about the friends she made in France when she was younger. She lost herself in telling her own story while driving us up the interstate, and passed our exit by a long shot, even though she had meant to take us only a few miles!
We got to Millinocket quickly, found my box was not at the post office, hung out with some high schoolers who showed us the way to the trail. A man picked us up in his car before we even put our thumbs out, and before we knew it we were in Baxter State Park. July 12 we hiked to the base of Ktaadn (seeing four moose and a bald eagle on the way) and started our ascent, too late in the day for my pace! It took us 12 hours, when others took 8-10 hours. There was so much rock-hopping, and climbing, and clambering! We had our full packs on, and I had to drop some of my things behind a rock to lighten my load and center my balance better. I literally required J's hand up on some of the rocks because they were so slick and tall. We summited around 6:15 pm, two hours after we saw the last group on the way down. It was freezing and windy up there, so we took our pictures by the sign and got going down, hoping to make it below treeline before nightfall, which we did. It was 12:19 a.m. when we got back to the campground, and I was so tired.
Next was the "100-mile wilderness" which was not really a wilderness, but definitely fewer roads crossed. The mosquitos were infuriating, as was the mud and the rain and the roots and the rocks, and the dozens of orange slugs we found on our gear and ourselves in the mornings. The terrain was flattish, but we were slow going. We had a day of me going back in to Millinocket for more food, and J going in thinking he would get off the trail, but his mom convinced him to wait it out. We got a hitch back to the wrong trailhead and lost a few days doubling back over the missed section so we wouldn't skip any trail. We met more hikers and dogs, one named Morgan with a pink nose and beautiful blue eyes, and we made it through the wilderness (swamp) into Monson. J was ahead of me, so I hitched by myself. On the back of a motorcycle. Oh yeah.
Molly in Monson let out a room and let J work for it, so we had a private room with sheets. The bar had great pizza, and lake access. We hung out for a bit, zeroed, used the internet to fiddle with my pictures. Shortly after Monson J and I separated on the trail and crossed a major ford, the west Piscataquis. I cross upstream among several islands, got tangled up and turned around, but eventually made it back to the trail without having to spend the night lost. J crossed at high water and got swept away momentarily, immediately assumed I had drowned, swam to the shore, and then saw me clambering out of the woods back to the trail. He was soaked. We called it quits for the day and built a fire.
Soon after that we met a group of hikers we've been with for about a week. Some of them flipped at Damascus after we did. We've been going into towns together, hanging out, drinking, doing Karaoke, watching TV, enticing each other to zeros, and so on. Currently I'm at the Pine Ellis hostel in Andover with TNT, as I lost J and the others a few days ago at another town. I think they stayed in town longer than expected, and if they made it off the trail by now they are probably at the "party" hostel near here. I like this place though, with internet and phone and shower and sheets and laundry and a porch. TNT was helping me with some fungus I have, directing me to soak my feet in salt water. It burned indescribably, and David, who runs this place (his home, really) gave me beer to ease the pain. And foot powder too. And I got to float around in a pretty floral skirt because they provide clothes to wear while doing laundry! How nice! Right now I'm trying to let my shoes dry from their washing--hopefully that will help with the fungus.
I am almost out of Maine now, and into the Whites, and close to Mahoosuc Notch, which is supposed to be the hardest mile on the trail. They say that about a lot of places, so it's hard ot believe, but Maine has definitely been a whole different animal from the southern part of the trail.
I'm sure I could say more, but I've been typing for almost an hour, so I'll have to call it quits.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monson, ME
So Daniel finally posted the letter I sent him from Damascus, you can check out the post by him below.
There's so much I want to talk about, but I know I have to get off the internet soon, and start hiking to the shelter 6 miles off the road, but 4 miles hitch... I want to talk about hitching, and police, and generous people and their homes, and Gravy the kitten, and moose, and mud, and Ktaadn, and a bald eagle, and rocks, and hiker boxes, and mildew, and ponds, and a motorcycle, and mosquitoes...but it can wait. I spent the last probably two hours messing with getting the photos off of my camera. And I'm tired of the computer. Here.
http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j14/mllebretagne/AT/
They added backwards this time, so they're all out of order, most recent photos first.
There's so much I want to talk about, but I know I have to get off the internet soon, and start hiking to the shelter 6 miles off the road, but 4 miles hitch... I want to talk about hitching, and police, and generous people and their homes, and Gravy the kitten, and moose, and mud, and Ktaadn, and a bald eagle, and rocks, and hiker boxes, and mildew, and ponds, and a motorcycle, and mosquitoes...but it can wait. I spent the last probably two hours messing with getting the photos off of my camera. And I'm tired of the computer. Here.
http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j14/mllebretagne/AT/
They added backwards this time, so they're all out of order, most recent photos first.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
This should be my last Damascus post. It's different from the others because I'm composing on paper and typing up later. Hopefully it will be less hurried.
Summary since Erwin/ Uncle Johnnie's:
We hiked out on Friday, having done an 11 mile slackpack in the morning, 4 more to the shelter. Grant and Ian were there with us and we matched pace the next three nights as well. The third day, the four of us ended up getting sucked into a nearby lunch counter run out of of a woman named Connie's home. It's called the Greasy Creek Friendly. I ate chips and salsa, portabella shroom burger, and a salad (all delectiably delicious trail treats). I even ate the chunks of carrots, it was that good. Connie was a sweet middle-aged lady, with cute grey braids, running the place all alone. We heard that before we came, she was singing 80's songs and making her cat dance. But shw eas so frienfly. The four of us camped outside there, baked biscuts on a stick and came up with the idea of hiking to Maine together.
In the next days we crossed some awesome balds, met some aggressive domesticated horses who bullied us for food until we left, spent a night in a barn-turned-shelter with the full moon and heat lightning in view, passed waterfalls suitable for a hiker shower, walked through a river gorge, climbed a srpuce-fir forest to the former site of a mountaintop hotel, waded a creek, fed ducks on a lake beach, and marched through driving rain. However, wading the creek was part of cursed quest to find a resupply point. We walked through pouring rain, missed the side trail by almost a mile. Walked back in pouring rain. Found the poorly blazed trail. Waded a swollen creek, waded through briars and came out at Abby's Place. The sign on the door said 'We'll be back at 8:00' Boy was I steamed. What kind of serious hostel does that? Closed all day?! So unprofessional. We wasted an hour and a half and walked close to two needless miles for that.
In the last post I mentioned Kincora hostel, where we cooked everything in sight and baked from found ingredients. I made a sweet potato - banana pie that was very highly rated, for example. Kincora is the best hostel so far. Never closed, low donation only, showers + laundry + shuttle + kitchen + matresses included + great hiker box + hundreds of Christmas postcards from hikers triumphant at Kataadn's summit. So inspiring!
Sorry about the timing folks, I didn't realize that the letter was in there until about a week after I got the package. Then I went computerless for another half week down in Frisco for the 4th. Clear cool blue water, could see your feet at all times. Anyways, there we go.
-Daniel aka Red Flag
Summary since Erwin/ Uncle Johnnie's:
We hiked out on Friday, having done an 11 mile slackpack in the morning, 4 more to the shelter. Grant and Ian were there with us and we matched pace the next three nights as well. The third day, the four of us ended up getting sucked into a nearby lunch counter run out of of a woman named Connie's home. It's called the Greasy Creek Friendly. I ate chips and salsa, portabella shroom burger, and a salad (all delectiably delicious trail treats). I even ate the chunks of carrots, it was that good. Connie was a sweet middle-aged lady, with cute grey braids, running the place all alone. We heard that before we came, she was singing 80's songs and making her cat dance. But shw eas so frienfly. The four of us camped outside there, baked biscuts on a stick and came up with the idea of hiking to Maine together.
In the next days we crossed some awesome balds, met some aggressive domesticated horses who bullied us for food until we left, spent a night in a barn-turned-shelter with the full moon and heat lightning in view, passed waterfalls suitable for a hiker shower, walked through a river gorge, climbed a srpuce-fir forest to the former site of a mountaintop hotel, waded a creek, fed ducks on a lake beach, and marched through driving rain. However, wading the creek was part of cursed quest to find a resupply point. We walked through pouring rain, missed the side trail by almost a mile. Walked back in pouring rain. Found the poorly blazed trail. Waded a swollen creek, waded through briars and came out at Abby's Place. The sign on the door said 'We'll be back at 8:00' Boy was I steamed. What kind of serious hostel does that? Closed all day?! So unprofessional. We wasted an hour and a half and walked close to two needless miles for that.
In the last post I mentioned Kincora hostel, where we cooked everything in sight and baked from found ingredients. I made a sweet potato - banana pie that was very highly rated, for example. Kincora is the best hostel so far. Never closed, low donation only, showers + laundry + shuttle + kitchen + matresses included + great hiker box + hundreds of Christmas postcards from hikers triumphant at Kataadn's summit. So inspiring!
Sorry about the timing folks, I didn't realize that the letter was in there until about a week after I got the package. Then I went computerless for another half week down in Frisco for the 4th. Clear cool blue water, could see your feet at all times. Anyways, there we go.
-Daniel aka Red Flag
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Ohio?
I mailed Daniel a letter a while back that I wanted him to post for me; I don't know why he hasn't. Please do so, soon, Daniel.
Long story short, we hitched out in three days to Bowling Green, KY, stayed with my friend there, then hitched in to days to Cincinnati. We spent one night at a hostel and met 2sergeantsbiking, who are biking across the country for a vineyard they want to start. Hitched with farmers and cage fighters next day, and with Mike, a biker from Carrboro, who took us through three states, yay! We camped behind a church. Ali showed us her lab and talked about genetics and stories, and cooked a great soup. And after a day of a speeding ticket, four cops, three times being kicked out of gas stations, and an almost-lost ID, Michael and Nadera let us stay at their house and fed us and showed us their art. A lot of people who didn't give us rides stopped to be sure we were ok, or bought us water, or gave or offered us money. It was very interesting to see their concern.
Once in Cincinnati, we called J's mom and went home. She has fixed fabulous vegan food ever since I arrived. Curry and spaghetti and more curry and hummus and cashew cheese and GREAT smoked barbecued seitan and burgers and pancakes and french toast and mixed drinks. Nom nom nom! And at the big 4th party, a friend brought raspberry almond cookies and brownies that she was perfecting. We spent a little time preparing for the party, and visiting J's camp friends, and going to a neighborhood festival, when I got mendhi on my palm like I've been wanting. We even went to Goodwill to pick up clean, normal clothes to wear while we are here. I made chocolate mousse for later, and we're planning to watch Reefer Madness: The Musical. Maybe we'll also play in pool before we leave in a few days. Before leaving for...Maine!
I'm having trouble with Picasa from this computer, so I've put the latest pics on Photobucket.
http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j14/mllebretagne/AT/
Also, I abused my camera a bit too much, and the screen has given up. I'm taking pictures blind now; thought I'd mention it in case you noticed a drop in photo quality.
Long story short, we hitched out in three days to Bowling Green, KY, stayed with my friend there, then hitched in to days to Cincinnati. We spent one night at a hostel and met 2sergeantsbiking, who are biking across the country for a vineyard they want to start. Hitched with farmers and cage fighters next day, and with Mike, a biker from Carrboro, who took us through three states, yay! We camped behind a church. Ali showed us her lab and talked about genetics and stories, and cooked a great soup. And after a day of a speeding ticket, four cops, three times being kicked out of gas stations, and an almost-lost ID, Michael and Nadera let us stay at their house and fed us and showed us their art. A lot of people who didn't give us rides stopped to be sure we were ok, or bought us water, or gave or offered us money. It was very interesting to see their concern.
Once in Cincinnati, we called J's mom and went home. She has fixed fabulous vegan food ever since I arrived. Curry and spaghetti and more curry and hummus and cashew cheese and GREAT smoked barbecued seitan and burgers and pancakes and french toast and mixed drinks. Nom nom nom! And at the big 4th party, a friend brought raspberry almond cookies and brownies that she was perfecting. We spent a little time preparing for the party, and visiting J's camp friends, and going to a neighborhood festival, when I got mendhi on my palm like I've been wanting. We even went to Goodwill to pick up clean, normal clothes to wear while we are here. I made chocolate mousse for later, and we're planning to watch Reefer Madness: The Musical. Maybe we'll also play in pool before we leave in a few days. Before leaving for...Maine!
I'm having trouble with Picasa from this computer, so I've put the latest pics on Photobucket.
http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j14/mllebretagne/AT/
Also, I abused my camera a bit too much, and the screen has given up. I'm taking pictures blind now; thought I'd mention it in case you noticed a drop in photo quality.
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